


Miscommunication

by TheEloquentDecadent



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Daddy Kink, Dom Derek Hale, Foreplay, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Sub Chris Argent, Sugar Daddy Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26956858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEloquentDecadent/pseuds/TheEloquentDecadent
Summary: Chris knocks, and Derek opens the door to the loft so quickly he must have been waiting."God, I fucking missed you." Derek pins him to the door as soon as it's closed, kissing him like they've been apart for weeks and months instead of mere days."Show me what you chose, sweet boy," Derek asks.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Derek Hale
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Miscommunication

**Author's Note:**

> My supposed PWP grew a plot and doesn't even have any porn. I don't know. Also DD told me to warn y'all that "it killed her."

Chris knocks, and Derek opens the door to the loft so quickly he must have been waiting.

"God, I fucking missed you." Derek pins him to the door as soon as it's closed, kissing him like they've been apart for weeks and months instead of mere days.

"Show me what you chose, sweet boy," Derek asks, stepping back and palming his cock.

Chris pulls off his t-shirt to show off the red lace teddy Derek picked out on their last online shopping binge. It's softer than anything he's gotten so far, a deep red that stands out against his skin.

"My beautiful boy, it looks even better than I imagined." Derek crowds him against the door again. He kisses down Chris' neck and across his chest, teasing Chris' pierced nipples through the soft mesh. "So fucking pretty."

Chris is hard as nails in his jeans, cock pressed tight to his pelvis by matching red lace. The contrast is thrilling, and he can't help but roll his hips into Derek's.

"I want to see all of you." Derek unbuttons and unzips Chris' jeans, helping him step out of them.

It leaves Chris at a disadvantage, naked save some scraps of lace beneath Derek in his usual designer suit.

"Please," Chris rasps, the first thing he's said since he got to the loft. "Daddy-"

"I've got you, baby." Derek hauls Chris into his arms, and Chris wraps his legs around Derek's waist. "I'm taking you to bed."

..

"I'm heading out."

"Ooh, on time and everything." His smart ass of a coworker winks at him. "Hot date with your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend, Erica. That's so infantile."

Erica pouts her blood-red lips and cocks her hip. "What is he then? Because he's more than just your fuckbuddy. Anyone with eyes can see that."

"He's my-" Daddy. "Derek."

"You're no fun." Erica wipes down yet another glass from the pile. "Go on, get, I don't want you late for your hot date."

Chris would resent her more, but her flirty ways and impressive rack make the tips better for everyone.

(And he loves her like a daughter, but he'll never admit it out loud.)

He heads out into the afternoon hustle and bustle, eager to get to the loft and the man inside.

Derek is in his office when Chris arrives. He slides his chair back so he can gather Chris into his lap and kiss him properly.

"How was your day?"

"It was fine." Chris snuggles into his chest. "Better now."

"How's Alli?"

"She's good." Chris tucks his face against Derek's neck and breathes in the familiar cologne. "The latest tests look better."

(Derek put money into a trust for her as soon as he heard she needed extensive care, making sure she'd be taken care of no matter what.

Chris has never been sure what to do with that information.)

"Good, I'm glad." Derek rubs his back. "What do you want to do for dinner, angel?"

"Whatever you want." Chris feels the tension uncurl from his shoulders. "I needed this."

He can tell he's over-tired, if he's admitting shit this early. Chris can't bring himself to care, not right now.

"Okay, baby, you just relax. I'll order dinner." Derek kisses the top of his head. "Daddy's got you, honey."

...

Chris wants to be grumpy about the present that appeared on his doorstep, but, after touching the fabric, he can't. The set is in a silky soft Kelly green lace, a tank and underwear that are cut for a man who likes to feel beautiful.

He wants to hate the expense, wants to look up the prices and add it to the never-ending tally of shit Derek has bought, but...

_Wear it if it makes you happy. Love, Derek_

The green looks good against his skin. He tries to ignore how his salt-and-pepper body hair mars the lines of the outfit. He isn't some fey, hairless twink. He's old, scarred, wears all fifty of his years on his body.

The lace does nothing to cover his faults.

...

"You look so fucking good." Derek peels him out of his clothes, leaving just the lingerie behind. "I love you in this. Like fine fucking art, wrapped up all pretty just for me."

Chris' cock is hard, trapped along his hip in a prison of lace, throbbing when Derek gets a hand on him.

Like this, against the wall, Derek's spare two inches feeling like two feet towering over him, blocking out the world, Chris doesn't have to think.

His entire existence narrows to this loft, this bedroom, this moment in time. He doesn't have to think. He just has to feel.

"Come to bed," Derek commands.

Between the two of them, they get Derek out of his suit and tie, a trail of expensive clothing leading from the door to the bed.

"Missed this," Derek rumbles, pressing Chris into the mattress. "Missed having you in my bed."

"Missed you," Chris admits, too hazed out on pleasure to give a shit. "I always miss you."

"So stay."

...

Chris showers before he leaves, dressing in denim and leather, armor against the decision he's making.

Derek is sound asleep, arm still outstretched in the warm spot Chris left behind.

Chris leaves the Kelly green lace on the floor, where it belongs. (Where he belongs)

He carries his boots out, avoiding the telltale thump on the hardwoods.

It's fine.

He's fine.

It's fine.

...

(It isn't fine.)

...

Allison is sicker than usual. Her husband calls and says they're back in the hospital. Chris goes to see her, setting up camp at her bedside. He keeps watch when Scott can't.

"Dad?"

"Hey, sweetheart." Chris scoots closer. "How you feeling?"

"Hot. Where's Derek?"

"He couldn't come today." The lie tastes bitter. "He had a work thing."

"Oh. Okay." She's too tired to look disappointed, but she sounds it. "Did you bring me a new book? Scott finished the last one yesterday."

"Yeah, I did. A classic."

"Little Women? Dad, we read this already."

"When you were ten. Let an old man reminisce."

They get halfway into chapter two when there's a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Allison calls out.

Derek appears in the doorway.

"Derbear!" She perks up, looking happier than she has in a while. "Did you bring the goods?"

Derek pulls a box of Ferrero Rocher out of his suit jacket and hands it to her.

"In exchange, may I borrow your father for a moment?"

"As long as you want," Allison declares, eagerly opening her forbidden fruit. "Forever if you'd like."

Chris doesn't think she realizes the effect of her flippant words. He follows Derek into the hallway, making sure the door closes behind him. He looks around the hall and pulls Derek into an empty family waiting room away from the nurses' station.

"Why did you come?" Chris asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You haven't talked to me in over a week. You left without saying anything. You left a box of your gifts with my assistant." Derek looks exhausted, scruffy and rumpled. "Chris, baby, why did you go?"

"I thought it was time to stop pretending," Chris says.

Derek looks so fucking confused, and Chris is almost angry that he can't see what's right in front of him.

"You could have anyone in the world. You're young, successful, rich, beautiful. I'm a fucking disaster. You can find another man to spoil, someone who fits the mold better, someone soft and sweet and untouched by the shit I've gone through."

"I don't want anyone else." Derek holds his hands out. "Chris, I want _you_ , despite your terrible attitude and your contrary nature."

"This is just sex," Chris says, and tries to mean it.

"It's never been just sex," Derek says quietly. "I'm sorry that I haven't made that clear. Christopher, you ridiculous man, I love you. Even if you don't want me to be your Daddy, I would be honored to be your partner."

Chris doesn't cry easily or often, but he can't help the tears that escape.

"You love me? Derek, you can't be serious, I-"

Derek kisses him to shut him up, loving little pecks melting into deeper kisses. Chris clings to his arms.

"Move in with me," Derek asks, forehead to forehead. "Stay with me. Allison will have her own room when she visits. You could have whatever you want."

"All I want is you, Daddy," Chris says softly, his voice breaking as his heart heals. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I don't care that you hurt me. I just care that you come home."

**Author's Note:**

> Find my non-porn writing at [rileywrites on Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileywrites/works) and my writing-exclusive blog at [rileywrites on tumblr](https://rileywrites.tumblr.com/).


End file.
